Bucky's Bride
by wanweirdd
Summary: Jane, daughter of a poor factory worker, is practically forced into a marriage with James "Bucky" Barnes. She feels like her life is over, or is it just beginning? ; set in world war ii & modern era.
1. Prologue

_prologue _

* * *

The tips of her fingers clutched at the scratchy material of her dress, eyes wandering around the frigid walls to stare out the window toward the side of the room. The glass was icy with frost, despite the efforts of the coal fire in the corner to keep the chill at bay, and the room was unable to dispel the snowy crystals from skidding across the panes, leaving behind impossibly fragile designs in its wake.

She sighed wistfully in admiration and her eyes closed as she wrapped the thick, wool blanket closer around her shoulders to ward off the frigid air that managed to escape the window's tight seal. Though her nose was rosy from the first of winter's weather, and her toes ached of chill, she found herself smiling as snowflakes fluttered from the gray sky, graceful and lovely as they moved.

_If only I could be a snowflake_, _she thought to herself—to be able to dance through the air with such poise and beauty. To be free to fly about the wind and—_

"Jane Gloria Johnson!" The young woman jumped at the sound of her mother's voice. "Did you even hear a word from my mouth?"

She opened and closed her mouth in surprise, eyes wide. "I'm sorry, Mama. What were you saying?"

Mrs. Johnson sighed and shook her head, moving to sit beside her daughter. "I was saying masculine—he's the manly type, that's how they categorized him. He's from a very respectable family, a smart boy, good morals." Pushing back her daughter's dark hair, Mrs. Johnson sighed. "You just have to stay open, Jane. Never judge a book by its cover is what I always say. Put your best self forward and just see what the chemistry is like, you understand?"

Jane nodded, "Yes, Mama." She practically whispered, her hands still wringing together.

"Are you alright, dear?"

"I'm fine!" Her bottom lip began to tremble, but she quickly bit down so her mother wouldn't see. "Just feeling a bit . . . a bit nervous, I guess."

Jane could see the look in her eyes—the stress, the way her hands would shake and the haunted echo of pain that shadowed over her once beautiful features—all from the effect of not being able to provide for her children. Money was low and still dropping, the Great Depression too much of a weight on their family's finances. Her father worked hard and so did her mother, but with seven children, it was almost impossible to keep up with bills, and even more impossible to feed all nine mouths.

Mrs. Johnson saw marriage as an escape for her daughter to find a better life—one where money wasn't so spares, where she could eat more than one small meal a day and be warm when the whole city became powdered in snow. She just wanted her daughter to be happy.

"Nervous? Why in the world do you feel nervous?" Mrs. Johnson exclaimed, her tired face pulling back into a small smile as she tried to encourage her young daughter. "You should be excited, Jane!"

"But, what if he doesn't like me?"

"Of course he'll like you, what's not to like? You're exceptionally beautiful, kind and loving, a fantastic cook and homemaker. You're everything a man could want in a wife!"

"Really?"

"Yes—really. Now enough of this self-pity, come now, chin up!" She tapped her daughter's chin, raising a brow until Jane sat-up straighter. "That's my girl." She murmured, kissing her forehead.

The old clock in the bedroom's corner chimed, sounding loud and monstrous in Jane's ears, each tick like the sound of a gunshot. Turning her head on her mother's chest, she looked back to the window.

A cool breeze showed that the glass stood open slightly and the curtains began to dance about the walls like ghosts. The fire place in the corner was slowly sizzling out and caused the room to grow colder. Leaning into her mother's shoulder, Jane closed her eyes and basked in her mother's warmth, breathing in the smell of cheap perfume.

Mrs. Johnson ran her fingers through her daughter's hair and breathed in the frigid winter air. "You know, I heard he's a soldier."

Jane's thick brows rose, "A soldier?" She murmured.

"Mhmm, and a handsome one at that." The thick boned woman turned to give her daughter a smile but it quickly flipped into deep frown. She studied Jane's upset face with a sigh. "What is it now, darling?"

"It's just, I've always imagined myself going to college before settling down. I want to study poetry and art and travel the world—to see new places and drink tea in Paris and live in an apartment all my own with a mean, grumpy old cat." Jane pulled from her mother's arms to walk around the small bedroom that she shared with her two sisters.

"If I get married, then I'll have responsibilities. And if I have responsibilities then I'm going to have to deal with them." She paused, trying to find the right words for what she had to say. Moving toward the icy window, Jane continued to gaze out at the heavy snow fall, sighing and watching as a puff of smoke drifted from between her lips.

"I realize that I'm sixteen and that I should be more mature by now and that I need to grown-up since there's a war and people giving up their lives but, I'm a girl still. I'm not a woman. I can't," She took a deep breath and closed her eyes once again. "I can't see myself as a married woman yet, no matter how hard I try."

She felt her mother's hands land on her shoulders, squeezing them. "Please, Jane. Just try, sweetheart." Jane's heart plummeted. "Go on the date and see how you feel, you never know, he might just be the one."

Jane was silent, her eyes slowly opening to see the snow stop completely.

"What's his name?" She whispered.

"James Barnes."

* * *

_real quick note: my great grandmother was married at fourteen during world war II and so were a lot of other girls, so it wasn't uncommon for parents to marry off their daughters young so they could have a "better life". many parents could hardly feed there children, so it was practically necessary. _

_I want this story to be as authentic as I can, and some thing's may not go with the comics, or movie, but I promise you'll see many, many, many similarities. _

_tell me what you think! reviews are encouraged._


	2. Chapter One

_chapter one_

* * *

Her pale fingers ran along the light fabric of her skirt, watching the blue material drip along her skin. Jane let out a soft sigh and rested her chin against her palm, gazing up at the single light bulb hanging from her family's old apartment ceiling.

She'd come to find that her mind is like the sea—in the sense that no one had ever dared to venture into the darkness that stretched on and on, forever and ever like an ocean of time. Much like the salty ocean after a hurricane, her mind had a tendency to drown ships and take life. When the waves came in, the destroyed pieces could be seem poking out of the foam as splintered pieces of wood, the ripped sails dancing gracefully in the wind . . .

Jane smiled at her ridiculous thoughts. She guessed most girls had dreams of becoming some dark, poetic, misunderstood soul that could only be comforted by the chaotic, unforgiving lash of rain. That is, at least, what she wanted to be—strange and bizarre and utterly mysterious. It was a bit dramatic, but Jane all for theatrics.

"Janie! Janie!" She turned to see her sister, Susan, staring out the window at the side of the room. The pretty fourteen-year-old was practically jumping up and down in excitement. "I can see him! He's coming up the stairs!"

Jane jumped up and ran across the room, practically pushing her sister to the ground as she attempted to get a look herself, "Where? Are you sure?"

"By his uniform, I'd say yes!" They both crouched behind the old, yellowing curtains, trying not to be seen, but failing miserably to hide themselves. "Boy—is he handsome!" Susan giggled.

He looked to be a tall man with powerful shoulders, a rugged face, and eyes that seemed to flash and glitter with confidence. It was a face to be dominated by, or to fight: never a face to patronize or pity. All his movements were large and perfectly balanced, like those of a wide animal, and when he moved toward the door like this, he held a certain swagger that left Jane blushing red.

James was more handsome then she had anticipated. She expected some balding, middle-aged man with a dull face and a body like a barrel. Now, seeing him in the flesh made her feel even more nervous and soon, self-consciousness set in.

Jane didn't believe she was beautiful, though of course, if listed separately, she did believe she had a few good features. But she found herself to be too tall and thin, her body not fully finished growing into itself because of her age. She grew more anxious as she pondered on it.

_What if he finds me ugly? Or too shapeless and young?_ She huffed at the thoughts. Just yesterday she was wishing this date had never been arranged, and now she was panicking on whether he'd find her pretty or not!

"Let me see, let me see!"

All four of Jane's sisters began to crowd around the cracked window, each trying to catch a glimpse of her first date.

"Girls, Girls! Come away from there!" Mrs. Johnson yelped. "You'll frighten him off!"

Jane ran to the other side of the apartment, looking over herself from the mirror on the wall and picking at her dark brown hair, "Oh, Jane." She heard her mother coo and she turned to find the older woman clutching her hands to her chest. "You look beautiful, darling!"

"Thank you, Mama."

Before she knew it, she was being pushed towards the front door. "Now have fun and be yourself, and don't daydream, Jane—he might think you're ditzy." Mrs. Johnson gave her daughter a kiss on the cheek and smiled. "I'll be waiting up for you!"

The younger sisters all giggled in the corner, waving their goodbyes, "And so will we!" Susan called. "Tell us if he gives you a big, wet one—right on the lips!"

Mrs. Johnson gasped at her daughter's crudeness, turning—but before she could retort . . . a knock sounded.

The whole room grew silent. Jane glanced to her mother and sisters and, taking a deep breath, she reached forward, slowly turning the nob.

_Oh, goodness,_ she gasped to herself, eyes growing wide. _He's even more handsome up close._ James Barnes masculine face was friendly, open, a slight smirk on his lips.

"Hello," she flushed, thrusting out her hand a tad too quickly. "I'm, Jane." He was so tall—she had to tip her head back to look him in the eye.

"James," he replied and his voice had the young girl weak at the knees. "But you can call me, Bucky."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Bucky."

She quickly stepped outside and shut her apartment's door, "The pleasures all mine." He said, and Jane smiled when he held his arm out for her to hold. "I hope you don't mind some dinner and dancing?"

Hooking her arm through his, Jane gave him a grin and nod. "That sounds perfect!"

* * *

She felt like she was floating.

The winter's chill nipped at her cheeks and ears and the soles of her heeled feet ached from all the dancing, but she hardly felt anything past the warmth spreading throughout her body. Pulling her coat closer around her shoulders, Jane looked up at Bucky with a smile, her face alight with joy.

Tonight had been wonderful. What she expected to be a disaster turned into one of the best nights of her life. Bucky had been more than just a handsome face—he was charming, easy-going, laid-back and a dashing gentleman to boot. Jane felt like the luckiest girl on the dance floor when he spun circles around the other men. She grinned, remembering the jealous stares of other girls.

And their conversations! She had never been so intrigued when listening to another person talk. Everything he said had her either laughing until her stomach ached or utterly enthralled to the point of seeing no one but him . . .

"So, what are your plans for the future?" Bucky asked, breaking her from her thoughts.

Jane pushed back a lock of hair and shrugged, looking down at her black, one-inch heels. "I don't know, to be honest." A smile began to stretch over her lips and she turned her gaze back to him. "If I ever go to college though, I'm going to read what I want and listen to what I want and I'm going to look at paintings and watch French films and I'm going to talk to people who know about lots and lots. But," She paused and her smile slowly disappeared. "There really isn't much life anymore, or color, or fun. It's probably just as well the Nazi's are going to drop a bomb on us any day now. So my dreams and plans are just . . . just silly now, really."

Bucky stopped walking down the cold street and looked down at Jane with his brows furrowed. "They aren't silly, Jane." His blue eyes wandered over her delicate features and he smirked. "You know, you fascinate me."

Jane's eyes grew round, "Really? And why is that?"

"You're interesting." His hand reached up and he pushed her short bangs away from her forehead. He grinned. "Not to mention beautiful."

Jane's whole face flushed a bright red and she playfully smacked his hand away, smiling, "Oh, goodness!" Looking back down to her feet, the blushing girl bit her bottom lip, her eyes gazing up through her thick lashes. "You know, silly school girls are always being seduced by older men. I hope you aren't planning anything, Mr. Barnes."

"I might be." The corners of his mouth turned upwards as his free hand reached down to cup her rosy cheek. His gaze locked with hers for a moment, before lazily trailing down her face, washing over every perimeter as if taking an immaculate inventory.

The tension was unbearable and she could hear his breath snag and unravel. Just like hers.

"Don't move," his words were merely a husky whisper at the back of his throat. His eyes slowly moved from her lips toward her eyes, a ghost of a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. Slowly, Bucky lowered his face toward her soft mouth.

So slowly.

Agonizingly slowly.

Jane's eyes were wide—her heart pounding against her chest as her hands hesitantly rose to rest on his chest.

When their lips met, she could have sworn the stars in the sky burst into a million pieces from the overwhelming, bone-deep passion that the slow kiss held in its sizzling depths. Jane felt her whole body heat up in a way that left her breathless and confused, her brain growing fuzzy as her small hands desperately clutched at Bucky's broad shoulders.

She felt so right in Bucky's arms—it was as though she belonged there. "Is this okay?" He asked softly, pulling away.

"I-I," She should've let him kiss her, she knew she shouldn't have. It was utterly scandalous but Jane couldn't find it in herself to care. For the first time in her life she felt free and grown-up. She was choosing to let him kiss her. It was her choice.

So softly, she replied with a, "y-yes."

His arms wrapped around her and he pulled her against his strong chest. She made a soft sound into his mouth, never wanting the kisses to stop. But he did as pedestrian passed by them, clearing their throat in disapproval. She blushed, hiding her face against his shoulder while he rattled off a smart-alecky comment.

Bucky stroked Jane's hair back and kissed her forehead. "Come on," he chuckled. "Let's get you home."

* * *

_really hate this chapter to be honest ._. it would not come out the way I wanted it to be. I know it's very, very quick for them to be kissing, but there is a reason why! just read on and you'll understand! _

_anyways, review, review, review!_


	3. Chapter Two

_chapter two_

* * *

Mrs. Johnson stood at the counter copping vegetables for tomorrow night. The slow regular rhythm of the knife kept in tune with the jiving music that spun from the radio and she smiled as her two daughters, Gracie and Hannah, began to dance around the tiny living room.

The dusk was whispering in pink tones through the open, peaceful space and it smelled of fresh baked bread and the herbs that she grew below the apartment windows.

She looked up when the front door closed, revealing her daughter. She grinned at Jane's googily-eyes and asking knowingly. "How was date, dear?"

"It was the most wonderful night of my life!" She exclaimed, sprawling herself over the couch in the corner. "He took me dancing, then down to a burger joint for some shakes and fries!" Her face became flushed with joy as she recalled the night, a wide smile on her lips.

"What fun!"

Jane's sisters all began to gather around her, one of the youngest questioning with a mischievous glint in her eyes. "So, did the two of you kiss?" They all gasped in surprise when Jane covered her face with her hands, giggling—while her brother's, who were in the corner playing with marbles, grimaced in disgust.

"Oh, you two did!" Gracie squealed, "Susan, you were right! They kissed!"

"What was it like?" asked Hannah.

Jane sighed dreamily. "Goodness, it felt like butterflies were eating up my stomach, I was so nervous! But Bucky was so gentle and sweet, it really was beautiful." She sighed again. "It was like fireworks went off in the sky the moment our lips touched."

"Do you love him?"

"Gee, we only just met, Hannah." She looked up at the ceiling and shrugged. "But, I don't know, perhaps one day."

"I'm so glad you had a good time, dear." Mrs. Johnson wiped her hands on a nearby rag and moved toward her daughters. "Now the wedding won't be so difficult."

"The wedding? What are you talking about?"

Mrs. Johnson licked her lips as her daughter's raised brows, cursing herself at the slip-up. "Jane . . ." She reached out to take the girl's hand, but Jane pulled it from her grasp with a little defiant grunt, her green eyes wide.

"But you said this was just a date."

"Girls, boys," Mrs. Johnson turned toward her children, nodding at the hall. "Why don't you go to your bedrooms?"

They all quickly filed out, and soon it was just mother and daughter. The air was heavy and Mrs. Johnson swallowed, pressing her lips together. "Jane, please pay attention." She began, sitting down on the creaky couch. "Money is very sparse right now—sweetheart and we can hardly feed your brothers and sisters or keep them warm. Winter is getting even colder and if we can't pay for central heating, we're going to be in a lot of trouble."

Jane's heart was pounding in her chest, her perfect evening slowly falling to pieces. She didn't know how to react to the news and her face twisted in dismay.

"We already married off Margaret a few months ago," Mrs. Johnson continued. "And we thought that maybe, possibly, that it might take off some of the strain but . . . it's only gotten worse." She crossed her legs and held her hands tightly in her lap, trying to cease the shaking. "I was talking with Mrs. Smith, you know, that woman from the material factory, and I was telling her about our situation. She said she knew a family that might be up for an arrangement—"

"An arrangement?"

"An arrangement of marriage," Mrs. Johnson explained. "Myself and Ms. Barnes set it up around a week ago and your father didn't mind—"

Jane let out a scoffing laugh and stood to pace the room. "Didn't mind? Set it up? Goodness, you're talking about my marriage as though it's a simple play-date for children!" Her voice pitched. "You can't make me do this!"

"Sweetheart, it's—" Mrs. Johnson tried, but Jane cut her off.

"What about my schooling and, and my friends and—"

"Jane, we are in the middle of a war. Now is not the time to be selfish."

She whirled around, mouth dropping. "_Selfish?_ How am I possibly being selfish?" Her voice grew in volume and her bottom lip trembled. "I want to go on more than one date with a man who's going to be my partner for the rest of our lives! This is absolutely ridiculous!"

"The Barnes' family has a decent about of money to take care of you, more than us. You won't be without food, you'll be warm, morning and night, and you'll be more comfortable then you are in this apartment that's practically falling apart at the seams."

"I don't care about money! I want love!"

"Well, not everyone gets what they desire, Jane! Do you think I want to marry you off like this? Hmm?" The tense air in the room thickened and Jane grew silent at her mother's loud tone. "To give my baby girl away at only sixteen? I don't, Jane but I have five other children that I have to think about! Five other children who are starving and cold. If you were in my position, would you pass up this opportunity?"

At Jane's devastated look, Mrs. Johnson's voice softened and she reached for her daughter's hands. Relief filled her when Jane let her hold them. "He's a good man, Jane. You saw that tonight."

Two tears dripped from her eyes and the young girl's voice became mute. "When is the wedding?"

"This weekend," The mother replied. "He's going to be stationed in England in two weeks. It's better if we do this sooner than later."

A heavy silence filled the air.

"I think I'm going to bed."

"Jane—"

Mrs. Johnson began to reach towards her daughter's shoulders. "Don't. Please." Jane shrugged her hand off and ran down the hall, slamming the bedroom door shut.

With a heavy sigh, Mrs. Johnson listlessly wandered back to the kitchen to her chopping and grudgingly picked up the knife. But after a moment of staring at the cutting board, she dropped the blade despondently, leaning her hands on the counter as she hung her head.

_What a complete and utter disaster._

* * *

"Marriage?" Millie gasped, staring at Jane as though she'd grown another head.

The three girls walked along with the many other kids leaving the school building, most with a bounce in their step, happy to be out of the stiff classrooms. "Why, I didn't even know you had the eyes for anyone!"

"I don't," Jane mumbled.

"What do you mean?"

She frowned, unsure of how to explain the situation to her friends. "Let's just say this is more of an arrangement then an actual marriage."

"Arrangement?" Carol's brown eyes shrunk in confusion. "Can't you just back out?"

"I wish, but my mother says it's necessary." Jane shrugged and looked down at the old pair oxfords that dressed her feet. "The Depression really did a number on my family's finances and we're not sure how we're going to make it through the winter." They paused at the front of the school huddling together to keep warm against the chill. "If I marry him, then it's one less mouth to feed."

"Well, is he kind?" Carol asked.

Millie bumped her shoulder and giggled. "Or handsome?"

"We went on a date Saturday night and . . . it really was wonderful. And he's definitely handsome if you must know." Jane couldn't help but smile. "We went to this really neat diner and had burgers and fries and shakes and we went dancing . . ." She paused, and her nose crinkled as she tried to contain her giggles, whispering. "We even _kissed_."

"Jane Anne Johnson!" Carol playfully hit her friend's arm, "How scandalous of you!"

"And romantic!" Millie leaned closer so she could hear every piece of the juicy gossip. "Was it everything you hoped it to be?"

Jane nodded. "Oh, definitely—it was much more than I expected that's for sure. It was like a zing went straight from my lips all the way down to my toes and my heart practically beat through my chest!"

"Well, he doesn't sound that bad. Why so worried?"

Jane looked to Millie and her smile slowly faded away. She began to play with a piece of her dark hair, twirling it around her index finger. "It was one date and, I don't know, I just feel like everything is moving too fast. I want to get to know him more before we make our vows, you know? And," She took a deep, shaky breath. "What if he was just pulling an act? I hardly know anything about him, so what would I know?"

"Gee, I'm sorry, Jane." Carol gave her friend's arm a squeeze, her voice soft. "I wish I could help you out."

"It's alright, really."

"Hey, remember you always have us and your sisters if you need someone to talk to." Millie input and Jane let out a small laugh. "If you need anyone, just come to us.

"Thanks, girls."

It was a chilling day, the sky painted with the heavy brushstroke of gray clouds and spitting rain and when she looked around, she noticed that a lot of her classmates had left school grounds, leaving only a few stragglers. She smiled and waved at a girl from her Home Economics class, shivering when the frigid air hit her fingertips. She began to look inside her school bag for her gloves, a furrow gracing her brows.

"You know," Millie began. "Lisa Harlow is getting married too."

"Really?"

"Oh, blast it!" The two girls turned to see Jane digging though her bag, both smiling at her frustrated expression.

"What?"

"I must have left my other glove in Ms. Larson's classroom." With a deep sigh, Jane waved goodbye, turning back toward the school doors. "I'll see you both tomorrow!"

"Bye!"

* * *

Jane hopped down the stairs of the school building with her two old, black hand-me-down gloves in hand. She quickly pulled them over her fingers, adjusting her coat and hat before beginning the long trek home.

"Jane! Jane!" She turned to find a boy from her Mathematics class jogging toward her while wildly waving his hand though the air. His round face was covered in a large grin and his nose was covered in freckles.

"Hi, Howie!" Jane greeted. "How are you?"

"I'm well, thanks for asking!"

Jane gave him another smile and fixed her school bag over her shoulder. "No problem," she said and, with a nod, she began to turn. But a hand on her elbow stopped her.

"I-I actually have a question to ask you." Howie stuttered, pulling back his fingers and stuffing them into his coat pockets. He shuffled on his feet and his face began to grow red.

Jane grew uneasy. She hoped this wasn't going the way she thought it was. "Yes?"

With a long swallow, Howie began. "I have these tickets for the carnival this Saturday and, well," he shrugged and looked back to his shoes. "I was wondering if you'd like to go with me?"

Jane almost grimaced. Just my luck, she huffed in her mind. Though she wasn't particularly looking forward to the marriage on Saturday, she wasn't going to cause any trouble. She liked Howie—he was a nice boy and always helped her if she had a question in class. But, as she looked at him now, she knew he would never, ever compare to Bucky. As much as she hated herself for thinking it, a lot of the boys at school didn't compare to her charismatic and charming fiancé.

So, with a deep sigh, she apologized. "I'm sorry, Howie. That sounds like a lot of fun but . . . I've already got plans this weekend."

Thinking that the conversation was over, Jane began to turn again, but was stopped once again, "Then how about next week? We could always go to a film or maybe catch something to eat?"

Jane's cheeks flushed in embarrassment and guilt dripped into her veins. "I'm really sorry. I wish I could, but . . ." She looked from side to side, shuffling. "I just can't."

Howie's whole face fell at the rejection and a frown grew over his thin lips. "If you don't want to go on a date with me, it's better to just say it." He murmured.

Jane's heart dropped and she shook her head, "No, it not that, Howie!"

"Then what is it?"

"I-I, I'm getting—"

"Is there a problem?" A velvet bass voice seemed to slither up her body along with the chills up her spine. With a gasp, Jane whipped around to find Bucky, indolently standing behind her in a pair of casual slacks and coat—his blue eyes slightly narrowed as he stared down the young boy

Howie's gaze widened for a moment before he puffed out his chest, shuffled uncomfortably as he tried to make himself intimidating. "No, there isn't." Reaching forward, he set his plump hand on Jane's back, nodding toward the other side of the sidewalk. "Come on, Jane. Let's go somewhere a bit more private."

Her mouth dropped in disgust. _Why, of all the nerve!_ She hissed in her mind.

Thankfully, Bucky cut in, removing Howie's hand and replacing it with his own. "Whatever you have to say should be fine in front of me." His voice laced with a cashmere undercurrent of warning.

But Howie was unrelenting, standing his ground—though he looked down at his shoes. "It's not much of your business, Mr." He muttered.

In an instant, Bucky's face frosted over with an intense seriousness that had Jane's pulse skipping a beat. His jaw clenched. "It is when it concerns my fiancé."

Howie blanched and he finally took a few steps back, "Fiancé!" His looked between the two of them in disbelief. "You're getting married!"

"Yes," Jane nodded, "this Saturday."

"B-but," his face grew red in embarrassment and a look of shame marred his boy-ish features. "I'm real sorry, Jane." He muttered.

"It's fine, Howie." She sighed and as Jane watched him stand with his shoulders sagged, an idea sparked in her mind and slowly, she began to smile. "You know, I think Dorothy Mabel is free this weekend, you should ask her."

His head popped up, brown eyes wide. "Dorothy Mabel." He tried the name on his tongue before nodding with a smile, beginning to turn with a wave. "Thanks, Jane!"

She waved back before dropping her hand, her body tensing as she remembered who stood behind her.

For an outrageously long minute, the two of them stood immobile and silent—so close to one another that Jane swore she heard his heart beating—like he was testing her to see what she would do. She felt her own breath skate across her lips in uneven, shallow pants.

She licked her lips and slowly, Jane raised her head to come face to face with . . .

_Bucky._

Her breath hitched.

Even with his features set in its intense and unfathomable expression, his lips were naturally hitched up at one corner, the opposite quirk to his eyebrow balancing it out delectably. It made him look at once cunning and fierce and very, very perceptive. She swallowed. "What are you doing here?"

Jane immediately winced at how impolite she sounded.

"I was going to pick you up from school but," he looked around at the sparse campus and smirked. "It looks like I'm a bit late."

Jane couldn't stop her lips from twitching. "We get out at around two o'clock," she informed and took a deep breath, letting her gaze wander. It was too hard to speak and look at him at the same time. "Thanks for coming, you didn't have to."

Jane slowly looked up through her thick lashes to see Bucky's lips curve up into a slow smile. "No problem," he nodding forward and kept his hand on the small of her back as he lead her forward. "My car's over here."

They hurried down the side walk toward a beat-up Plymouth Roadking. The bumper was slightly crooked and one of the windows in the back had a small crack in the window—but the fact that Bucky had an actual car was very impressive. Most people in New York either took the trolley or bus.

Thanking him when he opened the door for her, Jane slid in, fixing her dress as he got into the driver's seat and started the car. As he slid into the river of automobiles, Jane ran her fingers over the foggy window beside her, drawing little designs into the glass. Questions were overwhelming her mind and she attempted to distract herself, but before she knew it, the words began to claw their way out of her lips.

"Bucky?" Jane's voice was soft and serious as she struggled to find what to say. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"What do you mean?"

"About the marriage."

His brows furrowed and he looked at her from the corner of his eye. "I thought you knew about it."

"No, my mother told me it was just a date." She paused as a blush rose to her cheeks. Jane began to worry at her lip and pulled her coat sleeves down over the heels of her hands nervously. "Do you . . . do you really want to get married?"

He surprisingly nodded, "I do, actually." When the car paused, Bucky turned to look her straight in the eye, his own serious. "I'm twenty-five, I want to start having kids and raising a family, but if my wife isn't happy," he shrugged and turned back to the road. "Then I see no point."

As her shock and astonishment waned, it was replaced with questions. "But, how do you know this marriage will work out?" She asked, desperately wanting some stability.

"I don't." Bucky replied. "But I had a great time last night," Jane's heart skipped a beat and she flushed again, the blood in her body grew warm as she listened to him. "You're someone I can see myself spending my life with."

Despite her better judgment, she found her heart soaring. "Really?"

"Really."

"But, don't you think this is all moving a bit too fast? We only went on one date . . . what if I'm not who you think I am?"

"You got any secrets?"

"Well, no—not really." She thought for a moment before she turned to him with a smile. "I did steal from a candy store once, when I was ten. My mother was so cross, she made me go back to the owner and beg for forgiveness. Oh, it was so embarrassing!" She set her hands on her cheeks as she remembered the mortification she'd felt, shaking her head. "And then, I had to pay the man double then what the candy was actually worth! All the nickels I'd been saving for a new bicycle, gone!" She threw her hands into the air, eyes wide and animated as she told Bucky her story.

By the time she'd finished, he was chuckling, his lips stretched in a grin. "What about any nasty habits?" He asked.

"I bite my nails sometimes."

Bucky feigned a slow solemn nod. "Where did you grow up?"

"Right here—Brooklyn, New York."

"How many brothers and sisters do you have? Friends?" He continued to ask, his body relaxing as he listened to her soft, feminine voice. "You got any hobbies?"

"Well, I have four sisters and two brothers." She began. "My oldest sister, Margret, got married a few months ago and my other sisters are younger than me. The boys are twelve and seven." Jane tapped her chin, twisting her lips in thought. "My best friends are probably, Millie and Carol, but I also like to go out with the other girls in my class like, Lucy and Bethany and Georgina."

Looking up at Bucky, her fingers moved to play with the material of her skirt. "As for hobbies, well—I love to write poems. It's silly but, it relaxes me." A small smile graced her plump, pink lips. "I love sewing too, but decorative sewing, not the boring kind." She paused for a moment before her back straightened and her face lit up, "Oh, and dancing! I love to dance!" Jane grinned.

"Looks like I've just learned a lot about you." Bucky turned to Jane with a cocky smirk, chuckling at her shocked expression.

The young woman wished she was sophisticated enough to deliver some clever comeback, but all she could do was blush and drop her gaze. "Well, what about you, Bucky?" She asked. "What are some of your hobbies?"

"I don't know. I was really into card games when I was a kid, and I loved dodge ball." He shifted his hands on the wheel and leaned back. "I remember this one time, I was playing with a bunch of the boys on the block and my friend, Steve was on the other team." A slow smile grew over his features as he recalled the memory. "I whopped him so hard in the face, his whole body flipped over and he landed on his back, right on his head." He laughed and shook his head. "Kid didn't shed a tear though, just dusted himself off and sat on one of the stoops, waiting for the next game."

Jane giggled at the story and smiled. "He sounds nice."

Bucky nodded. "You'll probably meet him and his wife on Saturday."

"What's his wife's name?"

"Dottie," He stated and he glanced to her from the corner of his eye again. "She's around your age I think, maybe a bit younger."

"Oh," Jane bite her lips and thought of another question, before turning back to her fiancé. "What's your family like? Do you have any brothers or sisters?"

"I've got two older brothers, I don't see them much though—they both live out of state." He paused. For a moment, she thought he wasn't going to continue, his brows furrowing in thought. But with a deep breath, he continued. "My father actually fought in World War I, but was killed in crossfire." Jane's eyes widened at the confession, surprised that he would tell her something so personal. "I don't really remember him. I was only three when he died, but I always felt like I had to . . . avenge him."

"Is that why you joined the Military?" Jane asked after a moment of silence.

Bucky hesitantly nodded. "Yeah," his voice husked. His jaw clenched.

"When do you ship out?"

"I'll be shipping out to England in two weeks," he tried to relax the tense air and gave Jane a casual smile, "The 107th, Sargent James Barnes."

Jane nodded and turned to lean her chin on her hand sitting the passenger-side window ledge of his car and stared out the window at that cloudy sky that passed by.

These last few days had been pretty overwhelming: she had found out that she was going to get married in no more than five days that her mother and father had lied to her so they could support her brothers and sisters. And that her fiancé was going to be leaving for war in only two weeks' time, only nine days after their wedding. She was surprised that, given the laundry list of the last three days, it was this last fact that bothered her the most.

Jane exhaled a slow breath through her nose and idly turned to her future husband.

Bucky drove with the same insouciant confidence with which he seemed to approach anything with: his head was tilted slightly to the side, eyes sharp looking up at the road from under his lashes, a ghost of a smirk hitching his lips up on the left side. His arm resting cavalierly on the window sill and he steered, sure and casual, with one hand on the bottom of the wheel. He oozed competence and male—all unrefined blackstrap molasses, rich and bitter and sweet. He really was striking.

Jane's breath hitched. "Thank you." She whispered.

He turned to her with one brow raised, "For what?"

"For telling me all this."

A small grin tugged at the corner of Bucky's lips as he returned his attention to the road.

"No problem."

* * *

_thank you all so much for the awesome reviews! it really gives me that extra boost! thanks again and tell me what you think! ps. only around eight or ten chapters of this story is set in the 1940s, you'll see why things need to move a bit fast later._


	4. Chapter Three

_chapter three_

* * *

Jane stood in front of the long mirror and stared at her reflection, slowly and gently touching her face. The tips of her fingers dragged down her skin until the thick material of her dress touched the sensitive nerves under her flesh. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, a smile twitching over her cherry red lips.

It had been five days since the conversation in Bucky's car and five days spent together learning bits and bits about one another until they could practically name each other's past backward and forwards. Every day, Bucky would pick Jane up from school and they would walk around New York's streets, dancing and dinning and talking, spending all the time they could getting to know one another before the marriage. Jane didn't think it was possible to be so intimate with someone, not physically intimate, but mentally.

Intimacy is telling someone one of your deepest secrets and feeling no shame. Intimacy is giving someone your attention, when ten other people are asking for it. Intimacy is the person always in the back of your mind, no matter how distracted you are.

Jane moved to sit at the front of the vanity and fixed a bit of smudged lipstick, her light green eyes pausing on her left hand where her wedding ring would soon sit.

She felt it and her heart was certainly sure. But as for her mind, it was kind of disconcerting doing everything backwards like this. Usually people dated for a few months and then decided to spend the rest of their lives together. But as odd as it seemed, the last part was not even up for idle speculation anymore. She could feel him. She could feel him in the other room – this subtle pull of energy like walking through a spider's web. She could feel that he was a part of her now. As much as her brain tried to push away the blooms of love, her heart only grew larger with revelations.

Jane looked down to her wedding dress, the smile on her lips widening as she gazed down at the lacy material. It was absolutely beautiful, a true work of art. It belonged to her older sister, but after a few alterations, the dress soon fit Jane as if it were her own.

It was white, practically glowing. It shown like pale moonlight and her dark hair made for a dramatic contrast as it lay against it. The bodice of the dress was modest and faux crystals adorned it in intricate patterns until the bodice met her skirts, where the crystals spilled into streams that went the length of her gown. Some simple earrings adorned her ears and her veil was the only adornment she was set on wearing. As for her hair, which she insisted on wearing down. It was full and almost curly, silky from its wash this morning.

"I found the flowers!"

The dressing room's door opened to reveal Jane's mother and all of her sisters. After they had helped her dress and do her hair and make-up, they'd gone into the room next door to get ready themselves. "Your father said they're beginning to play the wedding march, we better hurry!"

Soon all the girls began to whirl around Jane in a bout of giggles and words of encouragement. "You look lovely," Hannah gushed. "Like a real bride!"

"Bucky's won't know what to do with himself!" Susan continued, priming herself in the mirror and picking off a smudge of lipstick from her teeth.

"Come on, girls! Margret, make sure your sisters have their flowers! And Carol – Carol, watch out! You're going to step on Jane's dress!" Mrs. Johnson quacked, "come on now, we have to move toward the chapel! We don't want to – Hannah, fix your hair!"

Jane hooked her arm through Susan's, the both of them giggling as they watched their frantic mother flutter about the room. "I swear," Jane murmured. "She's more nervous than I am."

"At least she's calmer then she was at Margret's wedding."

"Girls!" Mrs. Johnson cut off her daughter's chortles, "Enough diddle-daddle! Oh, goodness, you're all doing nothing but terror to my poor nerves!"

They laughed.

* * *

"You look beautiful, sweetheart."

Jane smiled up at her father and hooked an arm through his own, setting her head against his shoulder. "Thank you, daddy."

The large man kissed her veiled forehead, "you're going to be a wonderful wife." He paused for a moment, staring down at Jane's young, fresh face – heaving a sigh. "I just hope he'll be good to you."

Without even a moment's hesitation, Jane replied with a voice as soft as a bird's but as firm as a mountain.

"He will be."

* * *

Bucky barely had time to straighten out when the church doors opened. He pulled himself up to his full height and adjusted his uniform as Mr. Johnson appeared in the doorway with Jane at his side. All their family and friends packed into the hall turned to see the young bride walk down the aisle and soft gasps and whispers could be heard, some saying she glittered like diamonds themselves. But Jane heard nothing. It was if she'd gone completely deaf. All she could do was put one foot in front of the other while gazing at Bucky waiting for her at the end of the aisle.

Mr. Johnson looked like an old, wild beast next to his vision of a daughter with balding hair and scruff across his face. His tree-like body was dressed in old tux, his large feet covered in newly polished shoes, appeared impossibly stern from his work in the factory. Jane was almost leaning on him as they neared the destination, and he squeezed her arm after she trembled next to him. He, of course, had no idea that Jane had feelings for Bucky—he only thought his young daughter was terrified of marrying the older soldier. He couldn't have been more wrong.

Jane soon came to stand in front of Bucky and he could barely tear his attention away from her long enough to greet Mr. Johnson properly and take her hand from his.

Mr. Johnson took his seat next to his wife and two boys while Susan stood obediently behind Jane, holding her train as she held Bucky's hand and faced the priest.

As for what was said during the ceremony exactly and what the particular rites were, neither Bucky nor Jane could tell anyone. They heard little, if anything, the both of them staring deeply into one another's eyes. Jane's chest was rising and falling rapidly while Bucky gripped her hands harder than he should.

The two of them came back to reality long enough to slip the rings on each other's fingers, but then they passed back into a trance as the ceremony continued. Finally, the moment came to remove the veil.

_Oh, goodness. They had to kiss in front of everyone._ She had almost forgotten.

But Bucky hadn't and was ready to rip the thin fabric off her face. He didn't though, but when the priest declared them husband and wife, he slowly released her hand to reach up and pull her veil back from the left side of her face until it was gone.

There she was. A vision of perfection, and now –his wife.

Jane barely had time to draw her lips into a smile when Bucky's mouth covered hers in a passionate kiss. He managed to keep his mouth closed, but the force and the feeling behind it told Jane that his restraint was weak. One of Bucky's hands went to cradle her head as the kiss went on and now cheers and cries could be heard throughout the church, happy grins stretched over the audience's faces.

Jane tilted her head up and melted into Bucky. He knew he had to cut it off soon, but didn't want to. He wanted to pull Jane towards the hotel-rooms that very moment, but knew he couldn't. So instead, he gently pulled away and released his hold on her lips.

Jane was blushing and her lipstick was slightly smeared from the insistent kiss. Bucky barely heard the cheers and cries erupt even louder now as he took Jane's hand to present her to the room. She broke into a shy smile as Bucky began to lead her down aside toward the automobile waiting outside.

Rice bits were thrown over the newlyweds, cheers and yells sound-tracking the cool afternoon air as family and friends watched the Jane and Bucky run towards his old car that had empty tin cans strapped to the back bumper.

Jane waved to her friends and family, pausing to kiss her mother and father's cheeks before her and Bucky climbed into the car to drive toward the reception. They both waved, smiling to one another when they were finally out of view.

"You look beautiful." Bucky murmured, his hand reaching over to pluck a piece of rice from her dark locks.

Jane smiled at the compliment. "Thank you," her finger tips ran along the lacy material of her dress and she turned to watch Bucky, wanting to examine and begin to understand this man that she had just bound her heart to, and doing so when he was safely occupied, appealed to the paltry courage she could muster.

"'You okay?" he asked, without taking his eyes from the road.

"Mm-hm. I'm just watching." Jane murmured, relaxed and warm beside him.

As if sensing this, he turned and looked at her full on, his sensuous lips stretching into a smile. "Well, then watch away," he murmured, low in his throat. Jane smiled.

She had come to find that she and Bucky weren't the type to talk for hours and hours and hours on end – theirs was more of physical. Just being next to one another was enough for the both of them. When they wanted to say something, they did, but conversation wasn't necessary and was neither uncomfortable when nothing was said.

Tearing her eyes away from her husband's features, Jane stared at the small diamond ring adorning her left hand. The tips of her fingers ran over the single diamond that was attached the gold band, smiling. "It's so pretty."

Bucky took his eyes off the road to see what Jane was talking about, "the ring?"

She nodded. "I've never had something so," she turned to look up at Bucky, a grin gracing her red lips. Her eyes sparkled more than the diamond itself, "So, _glamorous._"

He chuckled, "I'm glad you like it, it was my grandmother's."

"She had lovely taste."

He turned a few more corners and Jane caught her reflection in the rear view mirror, frowning to see her lipstick smudged. She reached up and whipped at her mouth until it was all clean, turning her head when Bucky reached for her hand, asking. "Do you really want to go to the reception?"

Jane shrugged with a slow smile. "Mm-mmm-mm," she hummed _'I dunno'_ like a little kid with a small rise in the middle. It made him grin.

"We could just head to the hotel," he suggested mischievously and Jane gasped, playfully slapped his arm. Her face burned red.

"Bucky!"

* * *

"Jane, this is my friend, Steve and his wife, Dottie." Bucky greeted, gesturing to the couple before them with a smile. The man, Steve, was very small – only an inch or two taller Jane. His blonde hair was swept over his kind face and he'd dressed in a neat suit and tie for the occasion.

But he wasn't what caught Jane's attention. It was the woman beside him.

Her face was fresh and lovely with bright eyes and a bright passionate smile that was adorned with two dimples. Her short hair reminded Jane of shimmering gold. "Congratulations on your marriage!" Dottie exclaimed.

"Thank you!" Jane smiled, moving to shake her hand but was surprised when she pulled her into a clumsy hug.

"I've been waiting to meet you all week!" Dottie exclaimed in a high, breathy, thrilling voice. It was the kind of voice that ears follow up and down, as if each speech is an arrangement of notes that will never be played again. "This is the first time I've met someone my age! Usually it's just one of Steve's _old_ friend's!" She giggled. Jane watched Dottie reach for the glass of champagne sitting in her husband's hand but he quickly steered it away from her reach.

It wasn't until that moment that Jane noticed the sway in Dottie's figure and the glazed look to her eyes. She blushed in second-hand embarrassment. Dottie was intoxicated.

"Oh, Steve!" The girl whined, "I want just one more!"

"It was a pleasure to meet you." Steve gave a rushed smile to Jane and nod to Bucky before pulling his teary-eyed wife to the corner of the room.

"Goodness," Jane murmured in concern. "Is she alright?"

Bucky looked uncomfortable. "I think she'll be fine," he grasped Jane's hand and began to pull her toward the main table where their families sat. "Let's sit down—it looks like it's about time for the toasts.

Jane turned once more to watch Steve pull the crying girl into a hug, rubbing her back and kissing her forehead before pulling her completely from the room.

* * *

_this story is a bit choppy because these are sort of like flashbacks, so sorry if it seems a bit rushed! tell me what you think! review! ps. what do you think of dottie?_


	5. Chapter Four

_chapter four_

* * *

She breathed deeply through her nose against the almost violent impact of ardor, even while she pressed her body to his. She slowly moved her mouth away. "Slow," she gasped more to herself than anything. "I need it slow."

"Slow, mm," he mumbled into her neck as his mouth followed her pulse. "I'll try, Jane. I'll try." And Bucky's tongue traced the hollow of her neck and then nipped at her collarbone making her see bright shooting stars.

He sat up more and his large hands held her ribs as he nipped down her torso through her undergarments, making her squirm. By the time he got to her stomach where his nose rooted under the hem of her slip, she realized she was clutching at the bed's sheets. Bucky's tongue darted out to trace a circle of fire around her navel.

Jane gasped and arched in his hands at the feel of his mouth against her skin, her every cell crying for more.

But he pulled away.

With a squeak of dismay, she looked down to see him watching her carefully, that shrewd twist to his lips and the astute twinkle in his eye.

"Are you sure about this? We can always wait until you're ready."

Jane licked her lips and nodded. "I-I'm ready, Bucky." She had been thinking about it all day. And for the entirety of the week to be honest. She was bursting with nerves and fear and curiosity but she quickly pushed those emotions to the back of her mind. _This is our wedding night,_ she thought to herself. _This is something married people do._

She wasn't exactly sure what was going to happen throughout the course of the night. Her mother had talked very little about the subject of consummating the marriage, only saying that it will hurt the first few times and that she should stay calm. So when they had checked into their hotel room, Jane was more then a bit hesitant.

Bucky had been a gentleman though, talking casually to calm her nerves and letting her take as much time as she needed with her nightly routine. When she finished washing her face and pulling on a robe, he let her sit beside him on the bed and they talked for a long time. About the wedding, laughing about when Jane's Uncle had choked on a bit of steak and practically spit it out all over her mother. They talked about her schooling – which she had decided to quit, knowing that keeping a home would be more then enough work. They talked and talked and talked . . . until they kissed, that is.

It was like a dam broke open and Bucky could hardly keep his hands off of her. And as much as Jane cursed herself for thinking it, she couldn't help but feel satisfied that her husband couldn't hold on his emotions when she was around. She felt wanted, womanly and grown-up. She loved it.

"'You sure you can handle this?"

Jane paused, then nodded with a tentative smile.

"Good, because I don't think I'll be able to stop," he murmured in a whisper.

In one shockingly fast movement he had her flipped over on her back in the center of the bed and his body pressed over hers. His mouth crushed Jane's with an unabashed covetousness. For just a moment she was frozen, but like ice cream in coffee her fear and uncertainty melted quickly into creamy, sticky want. She surprised herself by nipping his bottom lip.

Bucky broke the kiss with a long inhale. "Slow. We're going slow," he gasped as if reminding himself and then rained kisses down her jaw over her neck again.

As his lips reached that sensitive spot over her pulse, she moaned and pushed up against him. Bucky smiled and drew her skin into his mouth, sucking fervently. Jane's eyes rolled into the back of her head as that delectable ache stoked a slow burning pressure deep inside her.

"Bucky," she heard her own voice gasp, husky, aroused.

"_Beautiful_," Bucky groaned in response. "Jane."

He made love to her, slow, sensual, pushing, dragging – pulling her body up against his as his hips moved against her. It was a luxuriant and sumptuous pace that made her burn slowly to white-hot need. It was sultry and dreamy, like the wind in the trees in August. It pulled at her heartstrings, her body, her soul.

* * *

_six days later._

Bucky's eyes popped open to the early light of full day. _Morning already?_ He felt disoriented and uncharacteristically lethargic. With a soft sniff, his arms automatically tightened around the warm, soft body draped over him.

_Jane, _He reminded himself. _My wife._

A hum of pure scintillating pleasure laced Bucky's satisfied sigh.

His gaze drifted down over where her hair was splayed wildly over his chest and her shoulders. His hand moved tentatively to push the whiskey curls away from her smooth, creamy cheekbone. Her face was peaceful and breathtakingly beautiful in her repose.

Folding an arm behind his head, he sat up enough that his eyes could run over her body. In the fledgling light of day, her skin absolutely glowed. As if poured smooth and flawless like white chocolate from that shoulder hitched up under her chin, down the curve of her back, over that round little bottom, down those long shapely legs – one of which thrown over his. Her hand was tucked under his ribs and her foot curled around his calf. She stirred and made the sweetest little sound in the back of her throat and Bucky stroked soothingly down her back until she settled again.

But a wave of anxiety rose up with the cold wash of reality. _What if this is one of the last time I'll wake up with her?What then?_

Bucky looked around the dingy, run-down apartment: two windows cracked, none-the-less, and his old furniture on it's last leg. The entire thing was practically falling apart. His thoughts began to wander, what happens if Jane wakes up and realized that he had nothing to give her in return – except himself – and even he couldn't promise that last one. He was leaving for war tomorrow morning, he might not make it home.

_Dammit, _The thought made him feel sick. _She might become a widow before she's even seventeen years old – _

Jane's hand reared up and collapsed clumsily on his face and it shocked Bucky out of his increasingly racing, and morbid thoughts. Her fingers blindly fumbled over his features, sluggish and awkward, a finger accidentally poking into his nose on its way across his face.

Bucky sniffled and chuckled, in spite of his earlier musings.

Her hand finally found what it was looking for, apparently on his cheek, where she stroked her fingers over his cheekbone several times.

"Mwat's wrong?" she asked in a sleepy mumble, eyes still closed.

A slow smile pulled Bucky's lips taut and forced out that foreboding sense of insecurity. "Nothing," he whispered and brought his arm out from behind his head to wrap it around her.

"'You want me to make you some breakfast?" She continued to mumble, her eyes drowsily half open.

He shook his head and pushed a lock of hair away from her face. Jane smiled in contentment. "No, let's lay here for a little while longer."

"That sounds nice," she sighed.

Slowly sound was beginning to seeped back into Jane's periphery from the heavy sleep she'd just endured: the rain pattering on the windows, the constant, patient drip in the sink, their breaths soft and even, the syncopation of their hearts. Jane peeled her eyes open and picked her head up off of Bucky's chest, moving it to settle on his shoulder.

The soft light of the overcast day glistened over her husband's skin and she found herself still fascinated with the shape of his strong body. When they'd made-love the night of their wedding night, Jane realized that her mother's words had been true. It had hurt, _a lot _and she was almost hesitant to let him take her again. But after a time and two more, she found the sore ache easing into a purely deleterious, mind-numbing pleasure that pulled on her heartstrings and left her only wanting for more.

Jane closed her eyes again and took a deep breath through her nose as she basked in the beautiful memories. She smelled him – sweat and rain and masculine. She felt his heat, radiating over her cheeks. She heard his breath softly drifting in and out through his nose . . .

"I ship out tomorrow."

Jane's eyes popped open and her hands paused over Bucky's chest, her own breath hitching. She slowly looked up through her lashes, only to find him staring out the window at the side of the room, a furrow in his brow.

"I'm," Jane's breath hitched. "I'm going to miss you."

Bucky turned his gaze back to his wife and pushed a lock of hair behind her ear, watching her as he murmured. "Jane," he began. "If I don't come back – "

Jane immediately sat up, pulling along the bed's sheet to cover her naked chest. "Bucky! How could you say such a thing?"

"Jane, listen to me. If I don't come back, I want you to move on. I want you to go to collage and eat in Paris and look at all the art in the museums and do everything you've talked about." He pulled her worried face between both of his calloused hands, "Look at me." Bucky waited until Jane's eyes met his own. His voice was frighteningly serious. "Don't think you have to be alone forever if I die."

"Bucky, you're scaring – "

He cut her off. "Hell, all I'm ever going to do is hurt you – "

"Well, of course you're going to hurt me." Bucky's glanced up sharply and met Jane's determined gaze. "Of course I'm going to hurt you. Of course we're going to hurt each other. But this is the same for every husband and wife. To become spring, means accepting the risk of winter." She smiled delicately and ran her fingers along his chest. He shivered. "Sometimes, things in life seem scary but we shouldn't dwell on them. Lets not think too much on the future, Bucky. It will only make a person worry."

"You're amazing," Jane laughed at her husband compliment and snuggled into his chest. "You know that?" She only shrugged in response.

Jane relaxed against him and he encircled her into arms. Bucky pressed his smile to those cherry pie lips. He was not prepared for the wave of unheralded want that crashed over him. Jane seemed similarly affected and her body pushed up into what was meant to be a quick atoning kiss for his tease.

Bucky gasped. It was more than just the bone-melting heat of their attraction, it was like more. He could feel her everywhere . . .

Jane pulled her lips away, gasping opened-mouthed, as she tried to pull her thoughts back together. When she was about to speak, Bucky began to drop sumptuous, decadent kisses as thick and sweet as whipped cream over her jaw and neck, collar bone and shoulders. "Bucky – Bucky wait!" She gasped and he only hummed in response, causing her to close her eyes and sigh wantonly. "We've been in this room for d-days! We need to move around and get some exercise."

She felt him chuckle against her skin. "Jane, we can get all the exercise we need right here."

The young wife let out a squawk and playfully slapped Bucky's naked chest, a smile spreading over her face.

* * *

Jane stood at the stove and finished up the simple morning breakfast, turning the fritters she had cooking on the stove and quietly humming along to the music coming from the radio. She loved the kitchen in Bucky's apartment. The dusk was whispering in pink tones through the open, peaceful space and it always seemed to capture the warm tastes of her meals. She still couldn't believe she had a kitchen of her own to take care of.

The newlyweds had moved into his apartment on Monday, with the help of family members and Bucky's friend, Steve. Jane was a little sad that Dottie didn't show up too, but later that night, Bucky told her that she was still embarrassed about her drunkenness at their wedding.

"'Smells good."

Jane smiled at the compliment and turned to nod at the small kitchen table in the middle of the room. "Why don't you sit down, the foods almost ready!"

Bucky complied and set down his hat, fixing out his uniform's jacket as he got comfortable. "How do you feel about going to that Stark Expo tonight?" He asked and was met with Jane's gasp in delight. He smiled.

"Oh, that would be a ball!" Setting the fritters onto two plates, along with her fried eggs and bacon, Jane served Bucky before sitting down herself. The both of them began on her well-made breakfast, Jane momentarily getting up to grab Bucky a cup of coffee and a glass of milk for herself.

* * *

_this is more of a filter chapter, so sorry if it's short! tell me what you think about their relationship! again, these are more like flashbacks so it'll be kind of choppy until it reaches modern time. thank you for all the reviews! you guys are amazing!_


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